


work it out

by jehoney



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Asexual Character, Asexual Jughead Jones, F/M, Relationship Negotiation, bughead is so much better as platonic bye, healthy and mutually agreed break up, jug loves all of his friends, jug would kiss all of his friends, let's talk about sex bb, sex positive betty ! is my fave!, sexytimes ?, the only bughead dynamic i will accept
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-27 01:55:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9945239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jehoney/pseuds/jehoney
Summary: He notices just how pretty she is. Not in an Archie Andrews ‘hot-girl-must-snog’ kind of way, but the way you see an old picture of your mother and realise that once she was beautiful. Jeez, he’s really not helping this be less awkward.jug and betty try to get hot and heavy. "try" being the operative.





	

**Author's Note:**

> so i know bughead is inevitable and unavoidable and don't get me wrong, i love these kids, but i really genuinely feel that their dynamic works a lot better as number one bffs without the romantic n sexual entanglements
> 
> soooo i wrote a fic which explores this alongside some Asexual Feelings and betty being the sex positive lil bean that she is. someone get her laid thanks.
> 
> enjoy !

As far as first sexual experiences go, Jughead thinks that he may not have had the complete and utter worst one a person can have.

He loves Betty, he can say that for certain, like he loves Archie, or Hot Dog, but the love doesn’t seem to morph into something epic or passionate just because she’s kissing his neck. And she’s good at kissing, he can say that too: her lips are soft, and she tastes like some kind of strawberry lip-balm, but he then has to remind himself that his frame of reference is literally non-existent, save for the time Archie kissed him on the jungle gym in 5th grade. Jughead thinks that he’d probably feel the same way kissing Archie as he does now, with her, but at least Archie wouldn’t keep guiding his hands to his breasts, and then he gets a horrifying image of Archie with breasts in his head and has to pull away suddenly.

And Betty lets go of his hands so they stay there, cupping her boobs, and something in Jug’s mind takes a while to make a connection before he pulls those away too. They’re not… _bad_ to hold, exactly, they’re soft, like her lips, and if it makes Betty feel good when he does it then he’s got no problem, he just really has no clue how to move his hands.

“Are you okay?” she laughs, and kneels back on his legs, which, if he’s being completely honest, are getting quite numb by this stage, and as she looks down at him her hair falls out from behind her ears. He tucks it back, by instinct, and, in an odd, objective way, notices just how pretty she is. Not in an Archie Andrews ‘hot-girl-must-snog’ kind of way, but the way you see an old picture of your mother and realise that once she was beautiful. Jeez, he’s really not helping this be less awkward.

He nods, smiling, because he is, other than his numb legs and raging internal monologue, and she leans in to mouth at the juncture of his neck, hands getting bolder and skating up just under the hem of his shirt. He tries to lie back and think of England, then realises he’s never been to England, and the only things that pop into his head are those big fluffy black hats, and their shrunken old Queen, which definitely does not help conjure the sense of arousal he’s supposed to be feeling. He’s heard guys say that hickeys are the hottest, but Betty’s mouth is not hot, just warm, and her hands are resting on the sides of his torso as her hips move against his. He really hopes she can’t feel his lack of arousal through their jeans.

Slowly, he can feel her tugging at his hem, pulling it up so his stomach is exposed, and he has to move his hands from cupping her face to stilling her arms.

“I wanna keep it on.” He says, and her face softens as she looks at him. He’s not self-conscious, exactly, he couldn’t give a shit what anyone thinks about his body, but the exposure in this context makes his chest clench.

“Sure,” she smiles again, and instead reaches for the bottom of her own top, pulling it off until Jughead has a distinctly half naked girl straddling him. And he has no idea what to do.

“Nice bra.” He finds himself saying, and it is: white, with china blue floral patterning, the lines elegant and certain, just like her. This makes her laugh, and he joins her, some of the tension in his chest dissipating as they laugh together, her hair falling in front of her face and a feeling between them that is utterly non-sexual, which puts Jughead at ease.

She leans down once more to kiss him, sweet and chaste on the lips, and these are the kisses he likes the most, affection devoid of expectation, her chest pressing against his, warm through his shirt.

Until she deepens it again, and he has to hold her shoulders to steady himself, not brave enough to put his hands any lower, even if he had the desire to. Her tongue is in his mouth, and he’s trying his best to act like he knows what he’s doing, pressing back, and he wishes he had a haze of lust to stop him from noticing every minute detail, the sounds their mouths make, her hands on his hips, her breasts ready to spill out of her bra. He’s terrified they will and he’ll feel like he’s seen something scandalous, something that he’s not supposed to. But he is _supposed_ to see that, right? Because he’s her boyfriend?

So, he tries to focus on their mouths, on the kissing, which takes up a great deal of concentration for him anyway, before he suddenly feels her shift backwards, and a feels a hand on the crotch of his jeans. He gasps out of the kiss, a sound of shock that Betty seems to interpret as arousal by the way she continues to rub him, and now that she’s shifted he’s able to back up until he’s sitting against the headboard, leaving her puzzled and concerned.

“Was that too much?” she asks, and she’s so genuine that he feels awful. The last thing he wants is for Betty to think that she’s undesirable; sat on her heels on the bed, wearing a bra and jeans, with her hair making a golden halo she’s anyone’s dream, just not his. He can’t go on with it, feign lust until they get down to it and she realises he’s been soft the whole time. She deserves more than that.

“I just feel like a fraud.” He passes a hand over his face, before pulling down his rumpled t-shirt. Betty shifts, and starts on one of her nervous spiels,

“If you’re not ready, Juggie, we can wait. I don’t mind waiting, it could even be better if we leave it for a bit and--”

“I’m never gonna be ready, Betts,” he doesn’t mean for it to come out so sharply, so tries again, softer this time, “I thought I could get over it but… I just don’t feel that way. About _anyone_.”

And he makes sure to emphasise those last two words, to make sure she knows that she’s not the problem, and neither is he. There’s no-one to blame, but as she leans over to pull her sweater back on, he can’t help the guilt from twisting in his stomach. For a minute, Jug’s sure she’s going to kick him out of her house, but instead she joins him, back leaning against the headboard and nudging her leg against his.

“I’m sorry.” He says quietly, because he is, sorry he can’t give her what she wants, even more sorry for making her think that he could in the first place. For an indeterminate amount of time they just sit in silence, and Jug realises that this was the reason he liked her in the first place. Not her kisses or her body, (they’re all pretty much negligible to him,) but her company.

“You don’t have to apologise,” she says softly, after a while, and then, “You mean… You don’t _ever_ want to have sex?”

She’s got an expression of slight incredulousness, which makes Jug chuckle as he shakes his head.

“I don’t think so.”

With a low whistle, she takes one of his hands in hers and traces the back of it with a finger. The tightness between them has slackened, and Jug allows himself to breathe.

“That’s kind of all I want right now.” She says, looking up at him with a soft laugh, the awkward laugh of the nice girl that’s been told all her life that nice girls can’t want things like that, shouldn’t talk about things like that. God, Jug wishes he could give that to her. Her face is drawn in thought as she speaks, haltingly, “Juggie… I don’t know whether I can… do without that.”

And Jug knows what she’s saying; because they’re polar opposites somehow sliding around on the same scale, but unable to intersect. They’re like a musical interval, harmonious with space between them, but too close and they clash, off-key and wrong. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt such a weight lift off his shoulders as he nods, and asks the question.

“Betts, do you want to call this off?”

When she nods, her golden hair bounces around her face and her eyes are smiling. When she kisses him one last time, it’s soft and sweet, devoid of romantic or sexual expectation.

When she pushes off her bed to head to the bathroom and clean up, he doesn’t think he’s ever loved her more.

**Author's Note:**

> title from the critically acclaimed 'high school musical 2', a searing and emotionally resonant piece of cinematic history.


End file.
